


again,

by avio



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Cuddles, Fluff, Light Angst, Memory Loss, Other, WAFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 18:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12966033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avio/pseuds/avio
Summary: “No, no, Asra, no, I don't want to forget you! C-can't we make it go away without that?” Their eyes plead with him, tear open his heart, and he almost wishes he could just let it go.“Oh, my Valir, I am so sorry. I-I can't, I just can't bear to see you in so much pain any longer.” He holds their head in his hands, thumbs brushing over wet cheeks. He kisses them, because it will probably be his last for a long time, if ever.They don't wake up for weeks and he worries over them. The neighbors and friends around the shop send best wishes.When they do finally open their eyes, the lack of recognition burns in his stomach.[i used my apprentice but i tried to leave it ambiguous enough for others to insert theirs uou;;; this whole thing is kind of a mess and unpolished, but i got rly excited about it so pls excuse that]





	again,

**Author's Note:**

> sighs, it was only a matter of time before i wrote something for The Arcana. god, what a beautiful game??? it has completely stolen my heart in the past like, what? couple weeks? less than that? i have fallen and i cannot get up to save my life and Asra is my most beloved nb husband whom i would live kill and die for
> 
> i also wanna write some stuff about his friendship w Nadi bc damn. ur lover and ur best friend don't remember you?? my poor beautiful Asra ;____; i would also like to write somehting more polished too bc i know this was.... Messy

They once were a great witch, one who enchanted Asra with magic he couldn't even dream of, spells he couldn't hope to perform. They had a power that was terrifying in its greatness, yet they kept humble, stayed a simple shopkeep. They still do, he knows, but he's afraid of what would happen if they ever recover it. He doesn't know if he is strong enough to go through it all again, again, again.

 

_“Wh-what? Who are you, and what are you doing in my shop?!”_

 

To look into the eyes of his dearest love, only to see the blank stare of nonrecognition, again and again and again.

 

_“Master, will you teach me a spell?”_

_“Valir, of course. What would you like to learn?”_

 

Each inquiry leaves a part of him wanting to scream. To teach _them_ a spell that _they_ had gleefully shown him years ago – it was a _mockery_ of whom they were.

But each time he tried, each time was terrible, awful, and he never, ever wants to experience it again ( _but he knows he will, as long as he needs to, as long as it can help them,_ _ **he**_ _can help them)_

 

_Their scream curdles his blood, piercing his ears and his heart, and he reaches for them with tears streaming from his eyes. “My love, my dearest, please, please stay with me.”_

_please dont sleep again I cant bare it please stay with me plea--_

_“Asra! Asra, make it stop! It hurts!” They're on their knees, clutching the sides of their head and pulling tight at beautiful, now-frazzled hair._

_I dont know how to help you, youre the one who has all the answers!!!_

_“Of course, Valir, my love, of course, j-just, please, try to--”_

_They scream again and his heart stops and he doesn't know what else to do but hold them tightly in his arms, pull them as close to him as he possibly could, press his lips against their skin until they numb, and he prays, and he casts._

_valirvalirvalirvalirvalir_

_He sobs with them, cradling them, rocking them, their name a prayer on his lips, until they can quiet down, until their eyes close and their skin is cool against his own, until they forget and the pain leaves them along with every memory they have of him._

_When their eyes open, they are the eyes of a stranger._

_“Where am I? Who are you?”_

_“Shh, it's okay. I'm here, it's okay. I promise, I am here for you.”_

_They're scared, but they don't let go, and he feels them melt in his arms, shaking, and it hurts to think that maybe deep inside them, a part of them remembers that they can be safe with him._

 

He watches them with fondness, watches their cheerful step as they run their beloved shop, a detail they remembered through some miracle. His heart aches and yearns for them and he loves them so unbearably much, and he can do nothing about it but watch them and teach them what they already know.

He dedicates himself to it. To showing them, letting them learn all over again how to perform magic, how to exist without his help. The more independent they become, the more it scares him. What if they remember? What if it destroys them _again?_

So when he is not at their side, he runs. He runs often, and he misses them but he is so afraid of what would happen if he stayed, if he nuzzled too close to them in their shared bed, if he let himself kiss them without thinking, murmuring old words of love, old words that haven't been said in too long.

He runs, and he feels their gaze on his back each time he leaves, and he wonders if maybe somewhere in their mind, they remember that they loved him.

 

_What am I to you?_

 

What, indeed? If not the air he breathes or the magic in his fingertips, what are they? An apprentice with no memory? How cruel!

How does he answer without blurting out the truth?

 

_What are you to me? Why, you are **everything.**_

 

He laughs, eyes darting, tells them as close to the truth as he can bear, each word a time bomb – will this trigger their memory, along with the pain of remembering? How much will they remember before their mind destroys itself again?

“Master?”

It hurts to hear, but he is used to it now. He turns to them with a smile. “Yes?”

“Will you be coming to bed soon?” Their gaze shift to the side, not looking him square on.

Oh, did they want him with them so soon? Did he dare hope? The thought leaves him warm, and it colours his smile. “Perhaps. Would you like me to? You miss me so much already, Valir?”

“I had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“I dreamt that I didn't know your face. I-I dreamt that it wasn't the first time.”

His blood runs cold as he stares at them, forgetting himself. “O-oh?”

“It wasn't pleasant.”

He has a choice. He could go to them, he could hold them in his arms and whisper away the nightmares [ _memories, cold, brutal memories_ ].

He could run away like he always does.

“M-Master? Should I just-- I'll just brew some worrywort--”

He is usually much stronger than this.

“I'll be there in a moment,” he promises, expression gentle.

He should run, he thinks. He should leave, but he feels... he feels...

Oh, how he misses them. He feels selfish. He wants to be near them again, so he goes to them. They curl up to his side and his fingers carefully card through their hair, easy and familiar. He thinks about how they nearly balded themself by pulling at it, screaming in agony--

“Master?”

“Yes?” He hates that title, and remembers a time their voice spoke his name and carressed his skin, soothing him.

“Thank you.”

Until it is safe, though, this is good enough. This is fine. This way, he could at least be close to them.

“Of course.”

 

“ _No, no, Asra, no, I don't want to forget you! C-can't we make it go away without that?” Their eyes plead with him, tear open his heart, and he almost wishes he could just let it go._

“ _Oh, my Valir, I am so sorry. I-I can't, I just can't bear to see you in so much pain any longer.” He holds their head in his hands, thumbs brushing over wet cheeks. He kisses them, because it will probably be his last for a long time, if ever._

_They don't wake up for weeks and he worries over them. The neighbors and friends around the shop send best wishes._

_When they do finally open their eyes, the lack of recognition burns in his stomach._

 

“Master, you're thinking too hard,” they mutter against his chest, fingers gripping his shirt and they sound tired and weary. “Just, be here right now?”

Oh. “Why, Valir, when I am with you, you have my full attention.” He chuckles, playfully tugging at their curls.

Valir growls, buries their face against him. “You're a damn liar.”

He laughs, and it is full and hearty, because in the end, no matter how many times he has to take it away, they're always _them,_ they never _change._ He feels their smile against his skin and their heartbeat beneath his fingertips and it calms him.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> anyways please please pleeeaaasseee come talk to me about The Arcana i literally don't know a single soul who is into it and i know there is a fandom just... pls......


End file.
